


Seattle Drabbles

by princemito



Series: Seattle AU [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College, Coming Out, Drabbles, Gen, Homophobic Language, M/M, Masturbation, Seattle AU, Unrelated chapters, akaashi is damaged goods, angsting tsukki, boyfriend shirt, bro time with tanaka and noya, ftm masturbation, hand jobs and blow jobs, proposal, skeeball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:38:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5241851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princemito/pseuds/princemito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles that haven't found their way into a full fic yet that take place in the Seattle AU I've created. Tags and summary will be updated as I add more!</p><p>Chapter 1 - IwaOi nonsense (SFW)<br/>Chapter 2 - UkaTake marriage proposal (SFW)<br/>Chapter 3 - TanaNoya broship (SFW)<br/>Chapter 4 - BokuAka beginnings (SFW)<br/>Chapter 5 - KuroTsuki angst/smut (NSFW)<br/>Chapter 6 - (Asa)Noya masturbation (NSFW)<br/>Chapter 7 - TanaNoya as college freshmen (SFW)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. High Scores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa has some strange fascination with skeeball

Meanwhile, somewhere north of Seattle…

Iwaizumi had been at work since 10:30 and had seen him waiting in the parking lot for the place to open. As soon as he unlocked the doors to allow the general public in, this guy just waltzed right in and made straight for the skeeball machines. He didn’t even stop at the counter to get tokens, which meant he already had a card.

Some families came in and did their thing. Iwaizumi had to save a bunch of balloons from the rafters at one point. It was a pretty average day.

It was nearly two in the afternoon when Iwaizumi took his break. He had half an hour and a handful of complementary associate tokens to waste. He took off his nametag and made his way over to the skeeball machines.

Only the one guy was there. He had been there for nearly three hours. Iwaizumi walked up and watched him; the way his eyes focused on the hole he was aiming for, the gentle flick of his head to toss his hair from his eyes, the suppleness of his wrist as he sent to ball rolling, the crinkle of his brow as he waited for it to fall in its intended hole.

“Shit!” he cursed when it missed. With his hands pressed against his head, he squatted down in defeat, muttering to himself. His head shot up and he glared at the game in front of him as it spewed out tickets. It was honestly more tickets than Iwaizumi had seen anyone get out of a game of skeeball in a long time, but it apparently wasn’t enough for this guy.

Without saying anything, Iwaizumi stepped up to the neighboring machine and inserted his tokens. He hadn’t skeed in a while, but he had done it a lot when he was younger and had considered himself pretty good. He never really took it seriously. He shot all his balls and ended with a decent score.

When he looked over, the other guy had been watching him. “What an amateur,” he said, a smirk of superiority on his face.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

The guy put a hand on his hip and casually waved the other one around. “Your form is all off,” he said. “You had some nice rolls, but it was only luck that you got anything in.”

“And who the hell are you that you think you know so much about skeeball?”

“I’m Tooru Oikawa, and I hold the high score on five of these six games,” he said, forcing nonchalance that just exacerbated his arrogance. 

“And, what? You can’t beat the last one?” Iwaizumi was amused.

“Some asshole probably cheated and got it impossibly high,” he said, his voice venturing too close to a whine for Iwaizumi’s liking.

“You almost had it, though.” Iwaizumi leaned over and slid another token into the game. The balls rolled down and he picked one up. He rolled it up the lane and it landed in the top right hole, earning him the maximum points. He felt Oikawa’s eyes on him as he pitched another one into the opposite corner.

“I admit, you’re not bad,” he said. “Do you play skeeball a lot?”

“I work here,” Iwaizumi said, casually landing another ball in the corner hole. “What’s your excuse?”

It didn’t seem like he had one.

Iwaizumi tossed another ball. “You didn’t even bother to bring a kid with you.”

“Oh, I usually bring my nephew,” he said. “But he’s busy today and I had nothing to do, except beat this stupid high score… So, here I am.”

The last ball missed its hole and landed behind the ball-hop. The machine spit out the tickets. He left them there and started to walk away; his break was almost over and he was a little hungry.

“Hey, your tickets,” Oikawa said.

He didn’t even bother to turn around. “I don’t need them,” he said. “Help yourself.”

“I didn’t catch your name,” he said before Iwaizumi got too far away.

Iwaizumi threw a thumb over his shoulder to point at the skeeball machine that flashed the current high score and the name “Hajime Iwaizumi”. Oikawa didn’t say anything, and Iwaizumi didn’t turn around to look, but he could imagine the look of horror on Oikawa’s face.


	2. He Said Fuck Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keishin is a lucky man. Sometimes a not very smart man, but a lucky man.

What was it that Ittetsu saw in him? He didn’t even like himself, so how was it that this guy, this amazingly sweet guy, wanted to spend the rest of his life with him?

It had been nearly seven years since they first met, roughly six and a half years since they became friends, and exactly five years since they started seeing each other. Keishin’s entire life was defined by those years and those years alone; the other twenty-one years of it didn’t matter.

He hadn’t realized it when they first walked into the restaurant together that it was the same place where they had had their first date. In retrospect, he should have known Ittetsu was going to pull something like this; he was always the more sentimental of the two. It wasn’t anything fancy, decent food, a wicked happy hour, and a smoking patio. Keishin had just come back in from a smoke break to find his boyfriend more nervous than usual.

“Maybe you should step outside for a bit,” Keishin teased, setting his pack of cigarettes and lighter down on the table within Ittetsu’s reach.

The smaller man laughed nervously and shook his head. He didn’t mind that Keishin smoked, in fact he rather enjoyed the scent of cigarette smoke on his clothes, but he tried it once and quickly decided it was not for him.

Keishin eyed him over the rim of his beer glass, which was nearly empty. He cleared his throat to say something, but Ittetsu cut him off.

“Keishin,” he said, rushed. His eyes were determined behind the lenses of his glasses. He nudged the cigarettes aside and took Keishin’s hand in his own. “I love you,” he said.

Keishin raised an eyebrow and squeezed Ittetsu’s hand. “I love you, too,” he said out of reflex, though he wasn’t sure what prompted his boyfriend’s sudden declaration.

“Do you know what today is?” he asked, as if Keishin didn’t know.

But Keishin knew, of course he knew. Any day of the year he could tell you exactly how long it had been since Ittetsu Takeda decided to be his. Today was easy. He smiled. “It’s been five years,” he said. Anniversaries had never been a big thing for them. Sure, they helped Keishin mark the passing of time, but they never really celebrated…

Ittetsu stood up so quickly that his chair clattered to the floor. Other guests turned to look at them and were greeted by a short man in a dress shirt and tie standing intensely at a table, one palm on its surface, the other hand grasping the hand of another man, taller with long bleached hair. They were an unlikely pair.

Keishin looked up at him from his seat, unaware of the stares. There was a firmness in the set of Ittetsu’s jaw that wasn’t normally there. It caused Keishin to wait, awed, where he would usually say something snarky.

Then suddenly, Keishin found Ittetsu staring up at him from one knee. “Keishin,” he said, releasing the hand he had been holding. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He opened it. “Will you marry me?”

Keishin should have seen it coming. He should have noticed the signs; the anniversary, the same place they went on their first date, Ittetsu’s nervousness, the amount of beer remaining in Ittetsu’s glass. He hadn’t noticed any of it until that very moment, when every odd little thing that he had dismissed that evening revealed itself.

His bewildered eyes left Ittetsu’s face long enough to glance down at the simple gunmetal ring perched in the white velvet of the box. A single diamond was embedded in it.

It seemed like minutes had passed and he hadn’t even moved. When he looked back at Ittetsu, his face was serious, his mouth a straight line. All at once, the movement exploded out of him as he practically fell out of his chair and into Ittetsu’s arms.

“Yes,” he breathed into Ittetsu’s ear, deaf to the applause that erupted throughout the restaurant. “Yes. _Yes. Fuck yes._ ”

If this guy, this amazingly sweet guy, wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, Keishin Ukai figured he must not be too bad after all.


	3. The Things Done For Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noya is sick and Ryuu is a good bro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a scene I was thinking about for Emerald City Etiquette before decided that ECE was going to be strictly from Asahi's POV. This drabble/chapter is probably gonna have a direct sequel drabble/chapter later because I really love writing Noya and Tanaka's friendship 'cause they're great.

Ryuu returned home to find his sick roommate rolling around on the living room floor.

“Yuu, what the hell?” He’s wasn’t even mad, just a little confused and very concerned for his friend’s well-being.

“Uuugh,” he groaned, face smothered in a throw pillow. “Ryuuuuu…”

He knelt down beside him.

“I hate being sick…” He extracted his face from the pillow and reached for the box of tissues on the coffee table.

“I brought you some peppermint hot chocolate,” Ryuu said, putting the cup down next to the tissues.

“It’s not even in season yet!” Noya reached for the cup, momentarily forgetting about his dripping nose. “Who’d you have to kill to get this for me?”

“Dude, we have peppermint all year,” Ryuu said, exasperated. He was tired of explaining this every time he brought something peppermint-flavored home.

Noya put the cup to his lips, ignoring his friend’s tone. After one sip, though, he gagged. “What _is_ this shit?” he demanded.

“I made it with soy milk,” Ryuu explained innocently. “Dairy’s not good for your sinuses. It makes you more stuffed up.”

Noya groaned. “Uuugh. Soy milk?” He looked at the cup that held the offensive beverage. “I appreciate the sentiment, but no thanks… Man, warn a guy next time, will you?”

Tanaka laughed and took the cup. “Fine. And since you’re sick, I’m not gonna drink after you, so this is a waste. I wasted a free drink on you. I hope you’re happy.” He rose to his feet and offered Noya a hand to get him off the floor. “What are you doing on the floor, anyway?” he asked once Noya was back on the couch.

“Being miserable,” he said, burrowing into the blankets. “I wanted to stop by the bookstore today…”

“To see that guy that works there?” Tanaka knew what was up. He’d been friends with Noya since their first year of college, and in all that time, Noya had never taken an interest in books.

Noya pulled the blanket over his head and let out a muffled, “No.”

Tanaka walked into the kitchen to dump the drink, but kept talking. “Noya, bro, you don’t have to lie to me. It’s cool. You can crush on whatever big burly book boys you want.” He ran the faucet to rinse the sink out and didn’t catch Noya’s reply. He walked back out into the living room and asked, “Eh?”

“I said nice alliteration! When did you get so smart?” Noya shot from his fortress of blanketude.

“Hey, I’ve got me a fancy college educational degree, thank you very much,” Ryuu said. “I may not be no fancy grad school student, but I get by.”

“Yeah, you get by by making coffee for us fancy grad school students.”

“Hey, we’re not exclusive, we’ll serve anyone with a buck.”

“A buck?” Noya asked, poking his head out to eye Ryuu with suspicion. “Hmm…”

“Well, more like five bucks, but…” He shrugged and joined Noya on the couch.

“Don’t sit too close,” Noya warned. “I don’t want to get you sick. This is miserable. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

“Bro, my immune system is made of fucking killer bees.”

“Killer bees?” 

Ryuu nodded, very sure of himself. “It’s angry and buzzes a lot and it will destroy your silly cold.”

Noya laughed. “Sure, bro.”

“So,” Ryuu said, nudging Noya’s side. “You like this guy, huh?”

Noya shrugged. “Yeah… I dunno why, though… He’s not really my type.”

“Do you even have a type? Yuu, you haven’t dated anyone in years.”

Noya chewed his lip for a moment before responding. “Yeah, dating kinda sucks…” He frowned. “I guess if I had a type, it would be bigoted assholes, though, so I guess it’s a good thing Asahi’s not my type…”

“Yeah, you sure did know how to pick some jerks,” Ryuu said. He was getting angry just thinking about it, about how they treated Noya and just shoved him aside and blamed him for things he couldn’t control and the names they called him and—

Noya put a hand on his shoulder. “Ryuu, that steam coming outta your ears is gonna fog up all the windows,” he said.

Ryuu groaned and clenched his hands into fists. “Sorry, sorry… Just thinking about those guys… God, they were such _dicks_.”

Noya smiled and finally reached for that tissue. “Yeah, some guys can be real jerks…” He blew his nose and dropped the tissue on the floor. “But Asahi’s not like that, I don’t think. He seems sweet and genuine… Even if he looks like he could rip a phonebook in half in his sleep.”

Ryuu shrugged. “I guess I can see the appeal.”

“Ryuu, you gotta help me, bro… I don’t know how to talk to guys anymore.”

He stared at him for a moment, watching as his friend covered himself in blankets again. “Dude, I have no clue how to talk to guys. You’re asking the wrong bro.”

“Who else am I supposed to ask?” Noya whined.

“I don’t know! Haven’t you made any new friends yet? You’re always making friends.”

“Classes just started,” Noya mumbled. “What about that grumpy glasses guy you work with?”

“Tsukishima?” Ryuu had to stop himself from laughing. “Dude, I’m sure that guy wouldn’t want to talk to you about anything. He’s kinda a dick.”

“But he seems like the kind of dick that’s only a dick to people he likes.”

“Well, he hates me, so therefore he hates you by extension. Sorry, bro.” He thought for a moment, then sighed. “I mean, you can talk to me about anything, I just don’t know if I’ll be much help.”

Noya perked up and the blankets fell away so that Ryuu could see his head again. He beamed at him. “Well, for starters, I don’t even know if he likes me or if he’s just being nice… And, like, I don’t want to do anything to weird him out, y’know? ‘Cause I like that bookstore, they’ve got some good stuff, things that might come in handy, you know?” Ryuu nodded, but knew better than to say anything to interrupt Noya’s streak. “Like really our only interactions have been him yelling at me, but that’s part of his job, so it’s not personal… And then the coffee the other day, which was really nice! Like he’s a really nice guy!” He squirmed in his pile of blankets.

Ryuu hummed. “Almost too nice, though,” he said. “He’s got to be hiding something.”

“What could he possibly be hiding?” Noya sounded almost offended at the idea.

“Don’t they always say that the serial killer is the one you’d least expect? Like they always say, ‘He seemed like such a good, decent guy!’ Right?”

“Ryuu!” Noya complained. “He’s not a serial killer!”

“You don’t know that.” He sounded pretty sure of himself, sure of the fact that Noya couldn’t be sure.

“But he seems _so nice._ ”

“That’s what they always say.”

Noya groaned. “I mean, what does it matter? I’m gonna die of this stupid cold anyway. And I’ll never see him again. What if he’s worried about me?”

“Need me to stop by and tell him you’re sick?” Ryuu joked.

“Would you?” Noya wasn’t joking.

“Dude, seriously?”

“Please? Just let him know I’m sick and that I’ll be back eventually, assuming I don’t die. I mean, he’s probably not worried… I doubt he’s even noticed I haven’t been around…” He sulked into the blankets and threatened to smother himself in them. “Uuugh, Ryuuu…” he whined.

Ryuu patted his shoulder through the layers of blankets. “I’m sure he’s very worried about you,” he said, trying his best to be sensitive to his friend’s pain, but to be honest, he found it more amusing than anything. “I’ll stop by on my way to work tomorrow,” he said.

Noya peeked out from his cocoon. “Really?”

Ryuu nodded, his face serious. “If it’ll make you feel better, sure.”

His cold-glossed eyes sparkled as he smiled. “Ryuu, you’re the best!”

He nodded and ruffled his friend’s hair. “Yeah, you’re pretty okay yourself, kid.” The things he’d do for this guy.


	4. A Melody to Heal Damaged Goods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiji Akaashi is a med student that hides a lot of baggage behind a solemn face. Koutarou Bokuto is a street musician who's determined to see him smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With a special appearance by nurse Yams c:

He was beginning to suspect that he wasn’t imagining things. For over a week, Keiji Akaashi had noticed this guy near campus, one of those street performers, and he had seen him every day since. But it seemed like he saw him everywhere. At first he was only seeing him once a day, but then he started showing up more and more. Just around every corner, it was almost like this guy was always there playing some strange instrument.

It was Thursday, just as Akaashi was leaving his lab, and there he was, standing at the bottom of the steps, playing a fun rendition of Katy Perry’s “Firework” on ukulele. Akaashi stopped momentarily and watched him, not sure what the song was, but recognizing it from somewhere. The musician locked eyes with him while he continued to play, his large golden eyes lighting up and a smile stretching across his face.

Akaashi looked away and turned to leave. Despite the fact that he was walking away, the music wasn’t getting any softer. When he turned to look over his shoulder, the musician was following him, still grinning. He walked faster.

When that song was over, a new one started. It continued as Akaashi waited for the bus. He boarded and hoped beyond all hopes that the musician wouldn’t follow him, and he thankfully didn’t. Akaashi looked out the window as the bus rolled away, and his eyes locked with the musician’s again. He smiled and waved, and Akaashi looked away. He didn’t have time for this.

\--

He got off the bus on Friday with earbuds in and kept his eyes focused straight ahead. Gray and black hair bounced in his periphery and he did his best to ignore it, but the accordion blared through his own music even with the volume maxed. He pretended like he couldn’t hear it. 

He walked all the way to campus with the awful mix of his own music and the obnoxious accordion. He couldn’t be sure, but he was pretty sure that he was playing the same “Firework” song from the day before. The musician followed him all the way to the building he was headed to, and Akaashi turned to face him, removing an earbud.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, slightly annoyed.

The musician smiled. “You just look like you need to be cheered up!” he said. “You never smile.”

Akaashi stared at him. Who was this guy? Why did he care? “I have class,” he said, and walked into the building.

After class, Akaashi isn’t surprised that the musician is still outside. It looked like he had been out there playing for tips during the entire two hour lecture. When he saw Akaashi, his face lit up and he prematurely finished the song he was playing. Akaashi walked right past him. He picked up his tip cup and followed behind him. Akaashi began to worry when he didn’t play any music.

“How was your class?” he asked.

“Okay.”

“I’m Koutarou Bokuto,” he said.

“Okay.” Akaashi pulled out his earbuds.

“Can I play you a song?”

“Maybe when you learn how to properly play the accordion.”

His face fell, and Akaashi almost felt bad. He moved to put his earbuds in regardless.

“W-well, I can just sing for you,” he offered. Akaashi stopped. “What are you listening to?”

“Symphony.”

“Oh. I can’t sing that.” His face fell even further.

“No you can’t.” He put his earbuds in, but this Bokuto fellow didn’t seem too deterred. He followed Akaashi as he walked toward the bus stop. He didn’t say anything else, at least nothing Akaashi could hear over his own music, but at least he wasn’t playing the accordion anymore.

He boarded the bus and could have sworn the guy said, “See you later!” as he did so. He looked back at him, surprised. Bokuto waved as the bus door closed.

\--

Akaashi worked all weekend and found himself to be somewhat disappointed that Bokuto hadn’t figured out where he was employed. He walked into the hospital with a tune in his head that he couldn’t get rid of. He didn’t even realize he was humming until one of his coworkers approached him, one of the nurses.

“Hey, Akaashi?” he asked shyly. “You’ve been humming Katy Perry, like, all day. That’s not very like you.”

“Hmm?” Akaashi looked up from the files he was wading through. His eyebrows were slightly raised, but his face was otherwise blank. “Who’s Katy Perry?”

His coworker spit, then composed himself again. “Seriously?” he asked. “You’ve been humming ‘Firework’ since you walked through the door.”

Akaashi thought about it. “Oh,” he said. “Is that what that is?” He shrugged and returned to filing.

“Sometimes you’re too much,” he said, shaking head his with a slight chuckle. 

Akaashi huffed.

“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that!” he said, a faint blush dusting his freckled cheeks.

Akaashi didn’t say anything else and just went back to his filing, and the nurse left. He began to hum again.

\--

When he got off the bus Monday, Bokuto the musician was waiting for him. He had a guitar with him, the case sitting in front of him collecting loose change.

“Did you have a good weekend?” he asked, jogging to catch up with Akaashi who had tried this best to ignore him. He carried his guitar case and had the guitar itself slung across his back.

“Not bad,” Akaashi said.

Bokuto’s eyes grew wide. “Whoa!” he said. “Two words! I got two words out of you!” He smiled and laughed a bit too loud. “Here,” he said, and shoved his guitar case into Akaashi’s hands.

Akaashi didn’t want it, and he made his displeasure known.

Bokuto didn’t seem bothered and pulled his guitar around to the front. He strummed a couple chords and smiled. His smile was almost too big for his face, but it somehow suited him. He began to sing, and it was another song that Akaashi recognized but didn’t really know. 

It was a love song.

Halfway through the song, Akaashi shoved the case back at him, causing him to stop. “Please stop,” he said, his face beginning to feel warm.

Bokuto blinked at him. A slow blink, confused. He clutched his guitar case tightly to his chest, as tight as he could with the guitar there. 

The look was almost heartbreaking and Akaashi had to look away. “Look,” he said, his voice level. “I don’t know what you think you might be doing, but just stop.”

“I’m sorry,” the stranger said. He frowned. “Is it the song? I can play a different song. I know a lot of songs!” He looked so hopeful that Akaashi almost regretted shooting him down.

“No,” he said. His eyes were starting to sting. “I just…don’t want you following me around, okay?”

The musician frowned.

“You don’t even know me!” he said, louder than he meant.

“I’m sorry,” Bokuto said again. “I didn’t… Shit.” 

Akaashi wiped at his face with the back of his hand. Why the hell was he crying?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Please, don’t cry. I’ll leave. I won’t play in this area again. I’m sorry.” He turned around quickly and nearly walked away.

He grabbed Bokuto’s sleeve without even realizing what he was doing. What even _was_ he doing?

Bokuto looked over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised high.

He didn’t say anything, he just looked into those large golden eyes. He wanted to just let him go and forget about him, but no one had ever shown so much interest in him before. No one had ever cared that he never smiled. People stopped trying to cheer him up a long time ago.

Bokuto turned around and faced him squarely, and his hand fell away.

“Keiji Akaashi,” he said quietly. “That’s my name. I thought you should at least know that.”

Bokuto smiled. “A beautiful name for a beautiful face,” he said.

His ears warmed. “Bye,” he said, turning away from the musician and stalking off.

“See you later, Keiji!” Bokuto called after him.

He walked faster. _Keiji,_ he thought. _No one calls me that._ He sighed, everything above the collar of his shirt on fire, and he wasn’t really sure what he had expected. That _was_ how he had introduced himself after all.

He couldn’t focus at all during class and found himself hoping that when he walked out of the building, Bokuto would be waiting. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was beginning to grow fond of the strange musician.


	5. Strawberries and Cream and Sweat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kei Tsukishima and Tetsurou Kuroo have been hooking up for a few months, but the affections are one-sided. Kuroo fell hard and fast, pretty much as soon as they met, but Tsukishima still has some things to work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first drabble I'm posting here that has smut. \o/ I didn't really mean for it to, but it was too angsty so I needed to lighten the mood. I have way too many KuroTsuki feels for my own good rn. I hope you enjoy.

Tetsurou’s fingers traced the rises and falls of Tsukishima’s skin, grazing over every smooth patch and imperfection, his wandering eyes taking in every remaining inch outside of those fingers’ reach. He was so beautiful, pale skin over a lanky frame and muscles toned is just the right places for Tetsurou’s liking. He gently trailed the pads of his fingers down Tsukishima’s ribs, then rested his hand on his stomach. Tsukishima’s hand soon rested on top of his own, and while Tetsurou’s eyes would be hard pressed to leave Tsukishima’s body, Tsukishima’s eyes lingered on the lazy oscillation of the ceiling fan.

“I don’t love you, you know,” Tsukishima said.

Tetsurou planted a gentle kiss on his lover’s bare shoulder. “I know that,” he confirmed, propping himself up on an elbow and looming over Tsukishima.

Tsukishima’s eyes finally wandered over to Tetsurou’s face. “Then why do you keep doing this?”

“Because I like it,” he stated. “Why do you?” He knew the reason, even if Tsukishima never admitted it. Over the months, Tetsurou had managed to drunkenly get small bits and pieces out of him, enough to piece some things together, but Tsukishima would never admit to anything, especially not in his current sober state.

Tsukishima rolled over, pulling Tetsurou’s arm with him. “I know you know why,” he said.

Tetsurou accepted his role as big spoon and trailed his lips over the peak of Tsukishima’s shoulder, nipping softly at the spot where its valley met his neck. “Then I want to hear you say it,” he whispered right into Tsukishima’s ear.

“No,” he said. “It’s not like it will change anything.”

Tetsurou frowned, resting his face in the tangled mess of Tsukishima’s sex-hair. It smelled like strawberries and cream and sweat, a scent that Tetsurou had grown rather fond of. “You can talk to me, Kei,” he breathed into the back of his head.

“I know.”

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m here to listen.”

“I know.”

Tetsurou’s thumb grazed across Tsukishima’s knuckles and he leaned down to kiss the back of his neck. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, thrilled by the goosebumps that sprouted on Tsukishima’s arms.

“I know,” Tsukishima said again, causing Tetsurou to snicker.

“There you are,” he said, propping himself up and kissing Tsukishima’s shoulder. He smiled down at him from above.

Tsukishima glanced at him out of the corner of his unspectacled eye, the hint of a smile at the very corner of his lips. He rolled back over and just looked at Tetsurou staring down at him for a moment, his eyes searching Tetsurou’s face.

Tetsurou’s hand left Tsukishima’s and cupped his face, his thumb feeling out the swell of his cheek and the warmth of his skin, only slightly colored.

Tsukishima reached up and pulled Tetsurou down until their lips met, his eyes closed.

Tetsurou watched his face soften and knew what was happening inside of his head, knew that as much as Tsukishima would deny it, he wasn’t thinking about kissing Tetsurou. It made him a little sad, but also determined. He so desperately wanted Tsukishima’s love, he wanted to be the one on Tsukishima’s mind every hour of the day. But they had a lot of work to do first. Tetsurou knew that and he knew he would have to be patient. He even knew that it might all be for nothing, that Tsukishima would never love him the way that he wanted to be loved, the way he knew Tsukishima was capable of loving.

But for now, this was enough. He would let Tsukishima pretend, and he would just keep going through the motions until one day, maybe, they were real.

Tsukishima pulled himself away, shifting himself to accommodate the swelling between his legs.

Tetsurou glanced down, lips curling into a smirk. “That good, am I?” he asked. Tsukishima looked away but didn’t say anything. Tetsurou kissed the corner of his mouth. “We can go again, I don’t mind.”

As if to answer, Tsukishima turned his head and met Tetsurou with a half-opened mouth, his tongue seeking the Tetsurou’s warmth. 

Tetsurou’s hand glided down Tsukishima’s chest, down his stomach, his long fingers teasing at the rough patch of hair below his belly button before wrapping blissfully around his cock.

Tsukishima let a moan out into Tetsurou’s mouth, his hips bucking up into the hand at its sensitive touch. He turned his head away and covered his face with his arm, the other one wrapping around Tetsurou’s back, nails digging into skin. His sensitive member wasn’t going to last long, especially since Tetsurou knew all the right ways to touch it.

Tetsurou kissed the hairline at the base of Tsukishima’s neck, his lips lingering as he purred sweet nothings into his ear. He nipped at his earlobe and kissed along his jawline, his tongue leaving a shimmering trail down his throat, where he paused and sucked gently, his hand still moving in perfect rhythm. The vibration of Tsukishima’s moans against his lips was all the excitement he needed and he pressed his own erection against Tsukishima’s hip, moving it slowly against him. 

Tsukishima’s back arched, his legs trembling, a groan leaving him but muffled by his arm. His body didn’t need another orgasm, but it wanted it, and Tetsurou delivered like he always delivered. In two feeble bursts, Tsukishima spilled himself onto his own stomach, a little bit getting onto Tetsurou’s hand. He gave a couple final strokes before taking his hand away.

Tetsurou stopped moving for a minute, watching the rise and fall of Tsukishima’s chest and the erratic spasms that plagued his muscles. He could watch the subtle movements of Tsukishima’s body all night.

One deep breath later, Tsukishima rolled Tetsurou over onto his back, a glint in his eyes that was fierce and determined. He repositioned himself between his legs and lifted one of them over his shoulder. His lips was surprisingly cool on the warm flesh of Tetsurou’s inner thigh and it made his toes curl. They soon found the head of his cock, already weeping with precum, and his mouth was so warm and wet as it took in the length of him. 

Already sensitive from earlier in the evening, Tetsurou knew he wasn’t destined to last long, but he held it back as long as he could. Tsukishima’s tongue pressing into his slit and his hand moving around to gently cup his balls, it was just too much. He wound his fingers into that short blond hair, thinking of the strawberries and cream and sweat, and how much he already loved this man who wasn’t ready to love him back, and there was no stopping every nerve in his body from jumping out of his skin as his fingers clenched tighter and let himself go.

Tsukishima wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before dragging himself back up the bed to Tetsurou’s side. Tetsurou looked over at him with a smile, a limp arm attempting to move and run a hand through his lover’s hair. Tsukishima kissed the palm of his hand, watching him with those observant eyes. Those eyes didn’t miss a thing, and even though Tetsurou hadn’t said anything, he knew that Tsukishima knew just how smitten he was. And despite that, Tsukishima didn’t run away. And that was why he kept doing this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :D


	6. Fly Away From Me deleted scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While away from home and Asahi, Noya finds himself a little lonely...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this like two weeks ago and have just sorta been pretending it doesn't exist, but I wrote it so I might as well post it... Look for a new Fly Away From Me chapter coming later tonight/tomorrow (if I can hold off posting it lmao)

He had never been fond of wearing shirts to bed, but figured that since he was a guest at someone else’s house, it would be better if he did. He had packed a shirt that he had not-so-subtly stolen from Asahi’s closet a week or so prior; a soft, light-weight button-down that he sometimes wore around his house when he was alone. He pulled it out of his garment bag and tossed it and his pajama pants onto the bed before stripping out of his clothes.

The shirt went down nearly to his knees, making the pants mostly unnecessary, so he just pushed them to the floor and crawled into bed.

The sheets had an unfamiliar smell that he didn’t like much, so he pulled up the collar of Asahi’s shirt and took in its scent instead. It still smelled like the cheap detergent he used, mixed with the mustiness of old books, and just a tiny hint of vanilla and chamomile. The smells made him feel safe, like he was wrapped in Asahi’s arms, which was where he belonged. The thought of being with Asahi made something tighten in his chest, a vast emptiness constricting his heart and leaving him filled with longing.

He felt that undeniable surge of energy melt its way through his core, turning his stomach and burning his gut, settling between his legs. His eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to fight the urge, but Asahi’s shirt just smelled so good, and he missed him so much, and even though Asahi hadn’t touched him, his brain was filling in all the blanks of how it must feel to have those strong, calloused hands on him.

There was no way he would be able to fall back asleep, not when he had gotten himself stupidly worked up like this. He glanced toward the closed door, knowing it was very unlikely that Jamie was still awake. But still. He was in the guest bed at his sister’s house. He couldn’t…

But if he wanted to get anymore sleep that night, he had no choice.

One hand clenched the fabric of Asahi’s shirt, pulling it to his nose. He breathed in the smell, a soft whimper escaping his lips. He loved it so much; he loved Asahi so much. His other hand wiggled its way under the hem of his boxers, the warmth already very apparent. 

The tips of his fingers were so much softer than Asahi’s, but he could imagine the gentle touches they would give nonetheless. He spread his legs and welcomed them, spreading his lips and pressing a finger into the warm opening. With a sigh, he bit his lip and inserted another finger, crooking them into the soft walls of his vagina. He pressed them in small circles, wishing they were bigger and rougher, inhaling the scent of Asahi and pretending he was there. His thumb flicked the hardened end of his clitoris and his body twitched, never quite ready for that first touch.

“Asa…hi…” he breathed, pumping his fingers in and out. “F…fuck… Ah…” He tried to keep his voice muffled in the shirt, suffocating himself with the fabric. His breathing grew heavy as he tried to keep himself still, bucking his hips at every slight touch. The fingers at his collar clenched tight as he slipped a third finger into himself, Asahi’s girth all that was on his mind, his thumb pressing and rubbing against his clit.

“Ahh,” he moaned, straining his fingers to find that perfect spot, thumb rubbing in circles and causing his feet to curl. “Asahi… A-ahh…!” He shuddered and his hips twitched, and he silently cursed himself for losing his place. His breath caught in his throat when he found it again and rubbed at it mercilessly.

He let out a haggard breath as he reached his climax, thanking all the beings in heaven that it was relatively dry. One last moan accompanied the removal of his fingers and his arm flopped weakly to the side. He burrowed his face in the fabric of Asahi’s shirt, his body trembling slightly, and when he pulled it away he found that it was wet with tears. The next moan was out of exasperation as he rolled over onto his side, vagina-hand still hanging off the edge of the bed, and curled himself into a ball.

After letting himself recover for a minute or two, he forced himself to get up and go to the bathroom.

When he returned, he picked up his charging phone and opened his messages.

> I love you

He set his phone back down on the bedside table with a content smile and crawled back into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. This was, uh...different. I hope you enjoyed though!


	7. You Were Always a Cool Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief glimpse into Noya and Tanaka's freshman year of college and how they met

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a good bit of this on my phone while sitting in traffic today. It was great. A lot of it is vague. Noya's roommate isn't that great of a person tbh

Noya was used to his roommate being loud, but her boyfriend was even louder.

“‘Nishinoya’? You didn’t tell me your roommate was Japanese!” He heard his name float into his dorm room from the hallway, though the voice wasn’t familiar and he could only guess who it belonged to.

“Isn’t it racist to assume all Asians want to be friends?” That was Noya’s roommate, Melissa. She was white and acutely aware of all the wrong things.

“Not when every other Asian is Korean or whatever…” The unfamiliar voice was mumbling but it still carried.

“Well she doesn’t act Japanese if you ask me.”

“Is she at least cute?”

Noya could imagine the scoffing look on his roommate’s face. He buried his own face in his pillow with a groan and suddenly wished he had gone to class like a good little student; he didn’t really want to deal with her right now, especially if she was bringing her boyfriend over.

The boyfriend’s loud laughter was cut off when it sounded like Melissa punched him. “Hey!”

“She’s a total dyke anyway,” Melissa said.

_Dyke_. Noya hated that word. He frowned into his pillow. _Butch. Dyke. Lesbian._ Why was everyone trying to put labels on him that he didn’t ask for? None of those were him.

“So I should be more worried about her stealing you, then?”

“Ew, Ryuu! I’m not gay!” She was right outside the door, probably digging into her bag to find her key.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he said.

The door swung open and whatever comment Melissa was about to make got caught on her lips. “Julia!”

Noya was fully dressed on his bed and obviously not sleeping. He looked up, though, as if he were surprised to see her.

“I thought you had class.” Her lips were flattened into a line just as straight as she was, and her attempt to hide her disappointment failed. Noya could read this basic girl like a children’s picture book.

“Didn’t feel like going,” Noya answered before pressing his face back into his pillow.

“Oh. Well…” She must have given her boyfriend a look in that pause, then added, “This is my boyfriend, Ryuu.”

Noya gave a half-assed wave without looking up.

“Ryuu, this is my roommate, Julia.”

“Cool to meet you,” Ryuu said. “I guess.”

Noya looked at him out of the corner of his eye. He had to agree with what Ryuu had said about Asians; the Japanese population was pretty small. There was something familiar about him, though, and Noya wondered if they had met, or maybe they had known each other in a past life or something.

Melissa shuffled around awkwardly by her desk, then Ryuu said, “I’m gonna go. I’ll catch you later, Mel.”

“Bye,” was all she said.

Ryuu kissed her cheek and backed out of the dorm room, closing the door behind him.

“He seems nice,” Noya commented.

Melissa just shrugged. “He’s okay.”

*

“Ryuu, I gotta tell you something.” They sat on the lawn outside the student center, and despite the fact that it was November, it was warm. God bless the South.

Ryuu offered Noya some Doritos and asked, “What’s up?”

“I’m a guy,” Noya said. “I’m trans.”

“Oh thank God,” Ryuu said. It wasn’t the response Noya was expecting and Ryuu laughed. “You know you’re my bro, right?” he asked. “I was just starting to feel sorta bad thinking of you as a bro even though you were a girl. But you’re not a girl, and that totally makes sense.”

Noya licked some Dorito dust off his fingers and smiled. “I knew you’d be cool.”

Ryuu shrugged. “I’m just a chill guy.”

*

“Ugh! I can’t believe you’re, like, BFFs with my ex!” Noya wasn’t ready for the barrage as he entered his dorm room. Melissa was in some weird kind of rage; Noya had learned to ignore her most of the time.

“He was too cool for you,” Noya said as he tossed his backpack onto the bed.

Melissa huffed and Noya prepared himself to tune out the oncoming rant. “He’s _such_ a prude and wouldn’t even hold my hand _and_ he probably has the world’s tiniest dick!”

Noya tried really hard not to laugh and failed. “Don’t judge all dicks by your own personality,” he cautioned with a grin.

“Fuck you!” she screamed and stormed out of the room.

Spring Break would do everyone some good.

*

“I can’t believe I dated your roommate,” Ryuu said. “What a fucking nightmare.”

“She’s awful,” Noya agreed. “But she brought us together!” He punched Ryuu’s shoulder and grinned.

“True that.”

The bus rolled up and Ryuu helped Noya load his bags.

“Good luck, bro.”

Noya gave him a sad sort of smile. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m gonna fucking need it.”

“I’m just a phone call away!” Ryuu reminded him as he boarded the bus for Atlanta. “And you know I’d come and kick someone’s ass if I had to.”

“I know.” He didn’t want him to, though. Even if some asses needed kicking, it was his fight, not Ryuu’s.

*

> going back to nola early

>> ??

> parents arent happy

> fuck them

>> fuck them!!

>> ill be there soon

>> ur gonna be ok

> thanks

> i needed to hear that

> i feel like shit


End file.
